


the sleepover we didn't know we needed

by indecisivebehaviors



Series: Can't fight this feeling [3]
Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series)
Genre: Also a nap, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Robby and Miguel Need A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecisivebehaviors/pseuds/indecisivebehaviors
Summary: Robby is Confused™. Miguel is trying his best.The boys have an impromptu sleepover and things go better than expected.
Relationships: (mentioned) - Relationship, Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence, Miguel Diaz & Robby Keene, Miguel Diaz/Samantha LaRusso
Series: Can't fight this feeling [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2200365
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	the sleepover we didn't know we needed

To say that Robby was nervous was absolutely an understatement. Things had been okay on the way to the car, Sam was talking to him again which was no less than a miracle. He’d known, shoved deep under several layers in his subconscious, that he really had missed her. Despite everything, it almost felt like no time had passed at all. The conversation had flowed almost too easily, through long corridors and cramped elevator rides. Sam had always been easy to talk to.

And then there was Diaz.

Miguel’s offer had been one hell of a shock. The invitation to stay over seemed like it had come from a genuine place, even if he had looked as startled as everyone else that he’d said the words out loud. Talking without consulting his brain first seemed to be pretty standard for him though, with how he talked in the hospital, jumping sporadically between topics that shouldn’t flow together at all, and he wondered, not for the first time tonight, if that was how it was so easy for Miguel to talk to his father. 

Robby wasn’t even really sure how he’d been drug headfirst into their conversation in the first place; when Miguel had first teased him in the hospital room, he’d been startled to be acknowledged at all by the other boy. When he didn’t react, Miguel had seemed almost nervous for the first time, like he’d stepped over some invisible boundary, eyes as wide as saucers. A quick glance at his father was enough for him to decide in that moment, that he really didn’t want that look on his face, and was internally grateful for the way Miguel’s eyes lit up, and his father’s silent grin, when he’d hesitantly joked back.

After they’d tiptoed around each other for a bit, the jokes and teasing had almost become _too easy_. Like he was talking to someone he’d been friends with for years, not someone he’d spent the last year fighting. Not someone he’d _pushed off a balcony_ for fuck sake. Robby had no delusions that one conversation fixed everything that had happened, but for once it felt like maybe things could actually _be_ fixed. That maybe he could be the one to fix them.

Now if only Miguel’s mother would stop looking at him like that.

She hadn’t said anything outright, but he could feel her gaze, burning red hot at the back of his head. He couldn’t blame her, not really. Above everything else, she was Miguel’s mother, and the shadow of the rivalry they’d had (Have? He isn’t really sure anymore.) wasn’t going to go away overnight.

When he remembered he was going to be riding back with Miguel and his mother, any peace and calm he’d managed to find over the last few hours had drained from his body, along with all the blood in his face. Sam must’ve noticed too, because when he turned to tell her goodbye she looked at him with a warm but wary expression and had hugged him tight enough to almost hurt and he’d tried to smile back when she let him go.

He looked away when she went to say goodbye to Miguel. He knew whatever he’d had with her was over, if it had even ever really started. Nothing good could come from dwelling on it.

He was so focused on trying to keep his eyes trained on his shoes that he didn’t even hear Miguel walk up until he was right next to him and lightly nudging him with his shoulder. He was trying to smile when he said, “Come on, Keene, let’s go, mom’s waiting.” He only manages to nod back before he’s being ushered over to the backseat of Ms. Diaz’s car. He doesn’t manage to keep the surprise off his face when Miguel tells him to scoot over and then he’s climbing in the back with him.

He sees Ms. Diaz give them both a strange look in the rearview mirror, but if she wants to say anything she keeps it to herself.

The ride back to Miguel’s apartment isn’t actually long by any standard, he knows they live in the same building as his dad, but it feels like it goes on for an eternity. With Ms. Diaz’ tense silence and Miguel side-eye and not so subtle fidgeting, it had made a lead ball start to form in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t get to wallow in his rising dread for long though before he hears Miguel start talking beside him.

“I’m like 90% certain I have something that’ll fit you back at the apartment, a lot of it is like, hand me down stuff so it’s all kinda oversized even on me,” He can tell Diaz is about to go on a nervous tangent, but Robby knows he’s on thin ice already, so he doesn’t try to cut him off, “We can probably go with Sam over to the station in the morning to go get your stuff back. She said she’d pick us up to go back and see Sensei and Mr. L. We could probably get away with going beforehand but it might be better to get them first. Mom has to go to work early and Ms. LaRusso probably has dealership stuff or whatever to deal with so it’ll probably just be the three of us.” He finally cuts himself off, looking over to Robby like he’s waiting on him to answer a question he didn’t even ask. _Is that okay?_ He can almost hear his voice in his head.

“Oh,” he says, lamely, “Yeah that’s fine. Whatever works.” He thinks it’s probably the stupidest answer he could’ve given him, and internally cringes at himself.

But Miguel’s genuine, crooked smile comes back and the damn thing is so infectious he really can’t help but smile back, “Cool.”

The ride was silent after that but it finally felt like he could breathe again.

When they eventually got into the apartment they were met at the door by an older woman Robby didn’t recognize, firing off rapid Spanish with Carmen and Miguel that he couldn’t understand a lick of. When she saw him, trying to make himself as small as possible in their living room, he knew she knew who he was. He didn’t even get a chance to think about making a break for it before Miguel was in front of him and gently tugging on his sleeve. He went, willingly if not hesitantly, with him over towards the woman, who had a look on her face he couldn’t quite figure out, “Robby, this is Yaya,” when he looks at him confused he smirks and elaborates, “My grandmother.”

“Oh, um,” he tried to will his voice to work, offering out a hand he was hoping wasn’t shaking enough for her to notice, “Hi.”

She looked at him for a long moment, and then looked down about the outstretched hand and he’s seconds away from retracting it back to his side and apologizing when she looks back up at him and smiles wide. She’s gripping his hand and pulling him forward before he can react and she’s hugging him around the shoulders. She’s saying something else he can’t make out and then she’s pulling him back to hold him by the shoulders. She laughs then, probably at his wide-eyed expression, releasing him to look over and speak to Miguel who chuckles at whatever she says.

Miguel turns to him with a grin, “She says it’s good to finally meet you.”

He blinks once, twice, in confusion before turning back to her, “Oh, well, thank you. It’s... good to meet you too.”

“Also,” he laughs again, “that you can stop looking like someone is going to hit you at any moment.”

Robby can feel the flush race up his neck and heating his face. He crosses his arms and looks at the ground, grumbling out, “Shut up, Diaz.” which only makes him laugh harder. 

Ms. Diaz comes out from where she’d escaped to the kitchen to roll her eyes in exasperation at her mother and son, and he flinches at the sound of her voice, “Alright that’s enough, Miggy, do you boys want to eat before you go to bed?” She doesn’t look at him at all when she asks.

He looks to Miguel then, worrying his lip between his teeth, waiting for him to respond.

Miguel just shrugs, “Yeah we’ll eat. You can go ahead and go to bed though, I know you have to get up in a few hours. I’ll make something in a bit.”

She smiles, unsure, “Are you sure, mi hijo?” 

When Miguel nods, she sighs in what looks almost like relief before walking over and kissing him on the forehead, “Alright sweetie,” she turns to walk down the hall, saying something to her mother again before calling out, “Don’t stay up too late, okay? You boys have to be up early. I’ll see you after I get off work. Try and get some sleep.”

“Will do. Goodnight Mom!” Miguel calls back, and he calls out a timid, “Goodnight Ms. Diaz.” She looks at him for a second and something he can’t recognize flashes across her face before she smiles, small but genuine, and disappears behind a closed door. Rosa turns to both of them, “Buenos noches, mi niños.” She pats Miguel on the cheek and smiles back at him and they’re both saying goodnight.

_Then there were two._

Diaz doesn’t even let him have time to become awkward again before he’s tugging on his sleeve again, “C’mon let’s go see if we can find something that’ll fit you.” He can’t have time to respond before he’s being pulled down the hall to his room.

His room is, unsurprisingly, unremarkable. Posters on the wall, dresser on the far wall, lined with miscellaneous junk, and a single bed pushed unceremoniously into the corner. Robby stood awkwardly by the door while Miguel chattered away while digging through the back of his closet, “I think we have pizza in the freezer that I can put in if you’re hungry. I know you probably wanna change first though. Obviously, you can have something to sleep in, but you can borrow stuff for the hospital in the morning too okay? It might be a little big but at least it’s not gonna be too small or whatever so that’s good. They probably took your stuff to the station by now, hopefully, so it shouldn’t be a problem getting it back in the morning...”

Robby eventually tuned out the other boy’s nervous rambling, instead choosing to slowly look around the room, over by the bed, above an incredibly overcrowded side table, sat a single shelf along the wall. He was surprised to see the All-Valley trophy up there- of course, he’d want to have it out and show it off. Tack on the wall next to the shelf were several photos- a much smaller, scrawnier Miguel than the one he knew, with his mom, his grandmother, a few with Sam and his other friends. His eyes crawled over the display until one, in particular, caught his attention. Miguel and _his_ dad, obviously taken at some concert, making ridiculous faces at the camera. 

It hits him like a sucker punch to the stomach. His old man looks _happy_. He’s reminded suddenly, the feeling like being dunked head first into ice cold water, that he doesn’t have any recent memories of his father ever looking that happy. He clenches his jaw against the bile rising in his throat and the tears that mist over his vision. It could’ve been him in that photo if things had been different, if he hadn’t tried to see his dad that day- a day that felt like centuries ago. If he hadn’t seen him with Miguel, or if his knee jerk reaction hadn’t been blinding rage. And it had been rage- that it looked like his father was lying- that he didn’t want him around, that he’d been _replaced_. If he hadn’t stormed off, blood boiling under his skin and revenge on his mind.

_Revenge for what?_

_For spending time with someone who genuinely liked him? For being a mentor? Trying to be there for someone for once? Trying to do better? Be better?_

He feels the tears spill over silently, while his mind spirals.

What could have been different, if he’d just called out to his dad when he saw him with Miguel that day? He can imagine the surprise on his face at seeing him there, maybe a little awkwardness at first, but he thinks his dad would have been happy to see him. 

Maybe he would’ve introduced him to Miguel. They could’ve been friends, he knows this deep down. With Miguel’s easy smiles and laid back attitude, maybe he could’ve balanced out Robby’s hot temper and sharp tongue. Between him and Sam, he could’ve worked through the rough patches with his dad, could’ve still practiced with Mr. LaRusso, but maybe he’d have tried out his father’s Cobra Kai too.

He wouldn’t have tried to see Mr. LaRusso that night. Might not have even stayed with him at all. He and his dad never would’ve fought, his dad would’ve never gotten angry. He thought for a moment, looking at his face in the dojo that night that he’d looked betrayed, but betrayed by who? Mr. L hadn’t done anything wrong, he didn’t even know who Robby was. Robby had made his dad feel that way. The same way he’d felt that day, watching his father with Miguel.

He would’ve never started dating Sam. The thought makes him sad, in a way, but it’s not like that worked out in the end anyway. He would’ve never gotten in between them in the first place. Miguel never would’ve started dating Tory. Sam never would’ve gotten drunk. 

There never would’ve been the fight. They wouldn’t have all been so angry. Demetri wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Sam wouldn’t have gotten hurt. He’d have never gone to juvie.

Miguel wouldn’t have almost died.

_Oh god._

“Robby?”

Miguel’s hand on his shoulder feels like he’s been struck by lightning. He jerks back almost violently, stumbling over his own feet and almost crashing to the floor, but Miguel is quick to wrap around his arm and haul him back upright, “Shit, hey are you alright?’

Robby straightens himself out, turning away from him, swiping at the tears on his face, “Yeah, fuck, I’m fine, just zoned out for a minute,” He turns back and hopes he doesn’t look as bad as he feels, “What were you saying?”

Miguel looks like he wants to ask something, face pinched in confusion, and what he thinks might even be worry, but decides against it at the last second and Robby is silently grateful. Instead he just says, “I was just asking if you wanted to change, while I put the pizza in.”

It takes him a second to register what he’s said, but then he’s nodding, and tries to force a smirk on his face, “Works for me. Lead the way.”

He’s led to a small bathroom, clothes bundled tightly in his arms, and he blinks against the light when Miguel flips the switch. He stands to the side while the boy ducks under the counter, pulling out a toothbrush, still in the wrapper, and chuckles, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “Uh, for after...” He trails off, before snapping to attention and rushes out of the bathroom, peeking his head back in for a second to say, “If you wanna shower or whatever, go right ahead. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything okay?” Robby barely has time to nod before he disappears.

Only after he sets the clothes down on the counter and shuts the door carefully, does he brace himself to look in the mirror.

He’s an absolute wreck.

Between the stress of everything that had happened today, crying off and on for hours and his almost panic attack, he honestly looks like he got hit by a truck. His eyes are rimmed in a thick red and puffy, multiple sets of tear tracks drying on his face, his face drawn and pale. His hair is a mess, sticking out at odd angles, and the gi he’s still wearing has definitely seen better days. He glances at the shower in the corner of the room, briefly considers it, but he can feel the wariness sink deeper in his bones and decides against it.

He settles for splashing ice cold water over his face, wets his hair enough to slick it back over his head in a weak attempt to make it cooperate. When he shucks off the top of his gi, he feels a shiver go up his spine when he sees the cobra etched into the back of it. He bunches it up into a tight ball and roughly stuffs it into the trash can by the sink along with the pants.

When he’s finally dressed, he takes another look in the mirror. The shirt he’d given him was at least two sizes too big on him, the hem reaching to almost mid thigh, and he has to pull the drawstring on his shorts tight around his hips to keep them from falling down. He’s practically swimming in his borrowed clothes.

Honestly? He thinks he looks ridiculous, but at least he doesn’t look half dead anymore.

He pads as quietly as possible through the hallway and back out to the kitchen, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of Miguel’s nervous buzzing, but he freezes in his tracks just before he reaches the threshold.

He’s changed, for one thing, no longer wearing the clothes from earlier- the sweatpants and t-shirt aren’t nearly as baggy on himself than they are on Robby, but still obviously oversized.The other boy is sitting on one of the barstools, leaning heavily on the counter with his head in his hands, heels of his palms digging into his eyes, hard enough that it looks painful. He isn’t crying, not really, but he can see from here the way his shoulders tremble with every shaky intake of breath. His hair is sticky up at odd intervals, like he’d been running his hands through it nervously, and his leg is bouncing erratically against the leg of the stool.

“Miguel?” He silently curses himself for the way his head shoots up suddenly, hands coming down to grip the edge of the counter. Surprise flashes across his face for a split second before settling. In his brief moment of vulnerability, before he straightens out and plasters a forced half smile on his face, Robby can finally see just how tired he is. The bags are deep under his eyes and there’s an obvious hunch to his posture, like he’s trying to curl in on himself, that he’d somehow managed to hide until now. He’d seen the bruises and cuts on his face at the hospital, but hadn’t had the time to really _look_ at them until now. He hadn’t noticed before but even if they’ve been bandaged up they still look fresh. He thinks he knows who gave them to him.

Robby wonders, not for the first time tonight, if he shouldn’t just run now, maybe try and pick the lock on his dad’s apartment. But, Miguel’s already seen him, so running isn’t really an option. The boy turns to face him on the stool, “Hey, I didn’t hear you come out. You good?”

Robby does his best to process the rapid change, “Oh... Yeah I’m good,” He hesitates, already dreading what he’s about to ask, “Are you-”

The oven’s beep is shrill in the otherwise quiet apartment, startling him into silence, and Miguel’s quick to his feet, and around the counter. He’s opening the box and shoving the pizza into the oven gracelessly, before he turns back around and faces him again, nervous energy coming off him in waves, “It should be done in like fifteen. Do you wanna like, watch tv, start a movie or something? We’ve got netflix.”

He’s thrown off balance by the rapid change in Miguel’s demeanor, and doesn’t have the mental capacity at the moment to process what it means, so he just nods, “Sure. That’s fine.”

Miguel’s face changes again, and he feels like he’s getting whiplash with all the mood swings, but when his shoulders untense and he gives him a small, genuine smile, he tries not to question it too much when he smiles back, “Cool.”  
They settle down on the too small couch in front of the TV, sitting a little stiff next to him, and Miguel idly flips through different genres. It hits him again, how _easy_ it is to just sit here with him, talking, bickering back and forth over what movie to watch, like this was a regular occurence, “We are absolutely _not_ starting The Walking Dead tonight.” “Keene, you have absolutely no taste.” They’re only five minutes into some cartoon Robby’s never heard of before, “How the hell have you never seen Rango?”, when the timer goes off and they have to pause it while Miguel gets up to take out the pizza.

Robby cautiously follows him to the kitchen, sitting up on one of the stools while he watches him.

“Hope you like pepperoni cause that’s all we got.” 

Robby huffs out a laugh, “Yeah that’s fine, Diaz.”

Miguel rolls his eyes and smirks at him when he turns around plates in hand, stacked with pizza, “Hey grab some sodas from the fridge?”

He’s already sitting crossed legged, hunkered down on the couch by the time Robby comes back to the room and tosses one of the cans at him. He settles back in, feeling slightly more comfortable now next to him now than he had earlier. Miguel unpauses the movie, and they sit in comfortable silence for a bit while they eat, TV humming at a low volume so they don’t wake anyone else.

The silence only lasts for so long, however, before he starts fidgeting in his seat. He can’t get the truly exhausted expression on Miguel’s face out of his head. The image gnaws at him, and he doesn’t focus on the movie at all, choosing to keep looking at the other boy out of the corner of his eye. He looks calm at least, for the most part, as the light from the TV flickers over his face. But, over time the wary, exhausted expression returns, his eyes hooded over and he sinks further into the couch.

He keeps stealing glances for most of the movie before he startles, jerking his head around at the sound of Miguel’s exasperated sigh. The boy lurches forward to grab the remote off the coffee table and pauses the movie before chucking the remote next to him, “Alright, spill. What’s wrong?”

Robby bites the inside of his cheek, “What? Nothing’s wrong-”

Miguel just rolls his eyes and cuts him off, “Save it. You’re not even really subtle y’know? I’ve been the new kid on the block enough times to know when I’m being stared at.”

Robby stares, wide-eyed, at him while Miguel turns on the couch to look at him dead on, surprised at being caught out. He stutters lamely, trying to think of a good excuse, but Diaz just levels him with a knowing look. He tries to steele his nerves, before he says, words coming out almost in the same breath, “Are you okay?”

Diaz scowls at him, “Seriously? That’s why you’ve been staring? Why do you even-” he knows Miguel sees when he flinches at his rising voice because he cuts himself off mid-sentence. Robby knows what it was though. 

_Why do you even care?_

They stare at each other for a long minute, Miguel’s eyes searching for something on his face, brow furrowed, and an expression Robby can’t even begin to understand. Eventually, something flashes over his face, and he lets out a bone-weary sigh, slouching against the back on the couch and tucking his head into the crook of his arm. The tired look takes over his expression and when he speaks again his voice is softer, more vulnerable than he’s ever heard it, “Yeah I’m okay. It’s just been... a _very_ long day.”

He turns in his seat to face him, slowly, and he doesn’t know what to say other than, “Yeah. It really has.” Miguel huffs out a joyless laugh, but stops when Robby gestures to his own face and asks, “Is that... are those from today?” 

The other boy nods, “Yeah, uh, that’s kinda why your dad and Mr. L went to the dojo tonight. There was a fight. Sam and I, we were trying to form a truce between the Miyagi-do and Eagle Fang kids. Tory and some of Kreese’s students jumped us at Sam’s house. It got pretty bad, Ms. LaRusso’s house is pretty trashed.”

He feels his eyes widen again and Miguel is quick to say, “Everyone’s fine, just a little banged up. Hawk even switched sides mid-fight, so that was pretty cool,” He smirks, “And we kinda kicked ass.”

“That’s... Good.” He can feel the grin form on his face without his consent. He can imagine it, in his head. He knows Miguel and Sam are excellent fighters, so it isn’t hard to picture them cleaning house. Something nags at the back of his brain about what Miguel says though, “Wait. What do you mean _Ms._ LaRusso’s house?”

It’s Miguel’s turn to widen his eyes in surprise, “Oh wait you didn’t-” He cuts himself off and groans, “Shit, no of course you didn’t know. She and Mr. L separated right after the fight at school. Sam told me he started sleeping at the dojo. They’re divorced now.”

Now that is a shock to his system. Of course, logically, he knew why he didn’t know any of this before now. But not knowing something so huge throws him off balance. Then something clicks in his head, “So he’s like single now right? He didn’t start seeing anyone after that?”

“Uh, not that I know of no. Why does that matter?” His face pinches with confusion.

He worries his lip between his teeth, “You don’t think... Like when we walked in on him and my dad earlier... we thought they were fighting...” He trails off. He hadn’t had a lot of time to process what had happened, was too busy worrying about his dad, and then Mr. LaRusso to really understand anything that was going on. But then he thinks about how frantic he’d been, crying and gripping his dad’s hand like a lifeline when he woke up on the floor, and in the ambulance. When they’d walked in on them at the hospital, the room had been tense, and they’d all assumed they were arguing with each other. 

But...

He sees the second that recognition passes over Miguel’s face. His eyes widen like saucers, mouth hanging open and he knows he was thinking of the same exact thing as him when he mutters under his breath, “Holy shit.”

They stare at each other, with matching shocked expressions. And then he catches the small uptick of Miguel’s mouth and he can’t help it. When he barks out the first laugh, Miguel is quick to follow and then they’re both hunched over the couch, trying desperately to quiet themselves to avoid waking anyone up.

“Ohmygod,” He chokes out between his fits of laughter, “I can not fucking believe them”

“That’s just-” Miguel can’t stop laughing either, “That’s so fucking stupid. All of this, the rivalry, the fights, the petty stunts, because your dad and Mr. L had like _one_ gay thought in the 80s and couldn’t let it go.”

Eventually their laughter dies down, and they’re left in the quiet again, and Miguel is grinning at him, “So do you maybe wanna finish the movie?”

Robby just shugs and grins right back, “Why not?”

It’s only when the credits start to roll, plates and cans long empty, when he really starts to feel the day catch up to him. He yawns, and crosses his arm over his face to try and stifle it, but Miguel is already looking over at him with concern painted on his face, “You wanna go to bed now?”

He looks over and shrugs, another yawn escaping him, “Yeah that’s probably a good idea.” He kind of dreads the idea of sleeping stretched out on the couch, a spring already digging uncomfortably into his back when he shifts to get up and take his plate back to the kitchen. But after they’ve rinsed them off, he goes to pad off to the couch again, Miguel catches him by the sleeve and gestures back towards the hallway, “Nah man, the couch is killer. C’mon, I’ve got an air mattress in my room.”

He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth while Miguel sets up the mattress, and by the time he’s done, he switches out easily with him, and goes to find that a pillow and an extra blanket have been thrown, sort of haphazardly on top. He’s settled in when Miguel finally comes back, climbing into his own bed. He watches him again, silently, only averting his eyes when the boy reaches over to switch off the lamp. He can’t see very well, the only light coming in from the street lamps out the window through the blinds, but he looks back up to where he knows he’s laying down. A few minutes pass by before he hears him shift in bed and mumble out, “Keene, you’re doing the thing again.”

Robby makes a mental note to ask how he just seems to know whenever he’s looking at him, but for now, he just shrugs, sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“Go to bed, Robby.”, He can hear the eye roll in his voice.

“Right. Yeah, okay.”

He thinks that’s the end of the conversation before he hears a quiet, “Goodnight, Robby.” 

And it sounds a little like forgiveness.

“Goodnight, Miguel.”

When sleep finally comes for him, he’s still smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> this series is by far my favorite things I've ever written
> 
> as always- all mistakes are my own


End file.
